#hello 2022

Nesta and Elain had fond memories of celebrating the New Year with their parents, Feyre being too young to remember, and after peace was won in Prythian once again, Rhys’ arm didn’t need much twisting in order to find something to celebrate.

Skimming his gaze around the room, he spotted a somewhat hesitant Tarquin, who was joined by Varian and Amren. The legendary female still inciting fear despite her otherworldliness being dimmed since the war with Hybern. It didn’t stop others, however, from continuing to be utterly terrified of the small, yet mighty female.

He had so far successfully avoided Helion and his advances as he spied him across the ballroom speaking animatedly with Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn. The females’ faces were full of wonder and their eyes sparkling with what he could only assume to be talk of his herd of coveted Pegasi.

He continued his discreet reconnaissance of the room, but the one person he couldn’t currently find, and the only reason he had agreed to attend this party, had still not arrived. His shadows further darkened, obscuring the slight scowl that had crept upon his face.

The clock tower had just struck ten, indicating the party had already been in full swing for an hour, and she had still not turned up. All the while, Cassian had stood beside him, sipping one of Rhys’ most expensive wines and laughing merrily with Mor.

“Az! Hello Az, are you even listening to us?” Mor’s bright voice broke through his reverie, and he finally withdrew his attention back to them. She wore one of her signature red gowns and looked every part a Queen in her own right, her arms ladened with gold bangles, which were sent jingling when she waved her arms around as she spoke animatedly.

“After hundreds of years in the presence of the two of you, I’ve learnt nothing of merit ever leaves your mouths after 9 o’clock,” Azriel deadpanned, not missing a beat. Flicking his eyes down to the glass in her hand pointedly, he continued, “or, after a glass of wine.”

Mor scoffed, clutching at her chest and schooling her face into a picture of mock outrage, “And who, pray tell, would you prefer to be in the presence of on this fine occasion?”

“Yeah, who?” Cassian parroted, puffing up to his full height, quirking one think eyebrow in a show of inquisitiveness. “If its Helion you’re after, I don’t think it’ll be too hard to convince him.” Cassian gave his brother a wolfish grin, referring to the High Lord of Day, having propositioned the three of them for centuries, smug that he was now safe from the harmless badgering as a happily mated male.

“It’s not Helion. It’s no one,” Az murmured, rolling his eyes at his brothers’ antics.

Mor gave him a vulpine, knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she glanced quickly over his shoulder and back to him, “Mmhmm, well no one just showed up.”

Azriel turned around, glancing over his shoulder following her line of vision, as he exasperated, “Morrigan, I don’t know wh- “. Oh fuck. He didn’t even finish his sentence, the word dying on his tongue, his mouth hung open. His brain had short circuited mid-sentence, as all other thoughts emptied from his mind and were replaced with her.

Gracefully gliding down the grand, sweeping staircase of the ballroom, she entered. Looking utterly magnificent in her resplendent, effortless beauty. She wore a long shimmering gown of light gold, the bodice closely hugging the curve of her waist, the long flowing skirts whispering along the parquet floor. The sweetheart neckline accentuated her small but full breasts and highlighted her elegant collar bones, so gracefully jutting out of her décolletage he just wanted to run his scarred hands in the divots of them. The puffy, off-shoulder sleeves left her shoulders bare, and he noticed how bronzed her skin had become after spending so much time outside in her gardens. Even in the winter, her skin was beautifully burnished to give her a healthy sun-kissed glow. Her thick golden-brown hair was set in soft waves, swept back from her face with two combs bejewelled with stones in a blue as deep as his siphons. As she began making her way down the stairs, a high split in the long skirts exposed a smooth, slender leg, almost coming up to her hip bone, and Azriel chocked on nothing, his head going utterly quiet. He had never seen so much of her skin exposed. She looked like a vision from the heavens, glowing golden and illuminating everything in its dark path.

From somewhere behind him he heard Morrigan clear her throat pointedly and he jolted into action. Never taking his eyes off her, he wordlessly pushed his whiskey glass into Cassian’s chest, his brother squawking in indignation at his abrupt dismissal, and took long strides over to the foot of the staircase where Elain still descended, tucking his wings in tight and shouldering his way through the crowd, paying no one else any mind as he passed them.

Climbing the last few steps to meet her he extended a genteel arm, the cobalt siphon on the back of his hand glimmering in the low light, the fine black velvet of his dress jacked fitting him like a glove. A small smile appeared on her lovely face, and she extended a dainty hand to grasp his muscular forearm, nodding to him demurely in thanks.

He escorted her descent of the last few steps, his face turned wholly in her direction and the room faded into the background. He no longer bothered to track everyone’s movements and actions, his role of Spy Master resolutely cast aside for the night. Instead concentrating all his efforts on remembering to breathe with the angel on his arm in such close proximity to him. He could scent her delicious jasmine and honey perfume, the memory of it settling in his chest and grounding him like an old lullaby sung in his youth. A sense of tranquillity washed over him now that she was here, on his arm. The thought that he had become completely enamoured with her crossed his mind, and for the first time in his life, he did not care who saw it so blatantly written all over his usually stoic face. The feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court, the deadly Illyrian warrior, completely undone for the gentle flower grower, the Cauldron Made Seer, the King-slayer. He would wear that badge proudly. He would fly up to the highest tower himself and scream at the top of his lungs for all to know. The thought, oddly, didn’t scare him.

She cast her sight down, a light blush dusting the tops of her cheeks at Azriel’s unwavering attention and looked up at him through long, darkened lashes. His mouth had popped open, and he realised that he had been all but gawking at her as he led her around the ballroom, Elain exchanging niceties with the attendees she knew or recognized, all the while clinging to his arm. Shaking his head of the fog that was induced only by her, he spluttered, “Can I get you something to drink?”

She ducked her face and stifled a little laugh at his uncharacteristically diffident demeanour. “Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you,” she responded. He caught the attention of a passing waiter and snapped up two flutes of sparkling wine from the tray, handing one to her and keeping the other.

“You look…absolutely exquisite, Elain.” The blush on her cheeks deepened.

“You scrub up quite well yourself, Shadowsinger.” She responded with a small coy smile on her full lips.

The band had started up a new song and couples began to make their way onto the dancefloor. Elain looked longingly at the twirling couples and swayed on the spot to the side of the room. He could see Cassian and Nesta, elegantly gliding across the dancefloor in a waltz, Rhys swirling on the spot of the polished wooden floorboards with Nyx hitched on his hip in one arm and Feyre embraced in the other.

Azriel looked back into Elain’s face, a small polite smile hiding the longing one would only find if they knew where to look, and thought he never wanted this female to want for a single thing for the rest of her life. Not whilst he remained breathing.

He put his glass down and offered a scarred hand to her, “Would you do me the tremendous honour of joining me for a dance?” He blushed; he didn’t know when he had become so loquacious. She looked back at him in surprise, her perfectly groomed eyebrows lifting toward her hairline.

“You would like to dance? With me?” she asked him softly.

He looked down into her open face and replied gently, reverently, “I want nothing more, Elain.”

She regarded him for a moment before delicately placing her small hand in his large one as he led her boldly to the very centre of the dance floor. Tonight, he was not going to shrink into the shadows. Tonight, he was not going to let Elain be pushed aside and forgotten. Tonight, he was going to ensure that everyone saw what he saw. This wonderful, brave, beautiful, kind, intelligent female. This female who had slain kings and cultivated delicate flowers with the same hands. This female who had completely, irrevocably, stolen his cold heart and warmed it that he could once again feel it stutter back to life whenever she was in his presence.

He swung her around, her skirts fanning out as she stood before of him, back straight and face turned up towards his. Her hand remained in one of his and her other came to rest lightly on his chest, just over his violently hammering heart. He bought his other hand to the dip of her waist, the warm weight pulling her closer into his body.

The music floated to their ears, and he found his step, deftly leading her into a waltz. Ducking and weaving around the parquet floor, the golden skirts of her gown trailed behind them, swaying playfully with his shadows. They danced and danced, never paying any mind to those around them, having no idea what else had transpired during the nights festivities. They never took their eyes off one another; the others’ face was all they could see amongst the dozens of others in the crowded room. Azriel had no idea if they had been dancing for minutes or hours, but he knew he never wanted this to end, never wanted to not hold Elain in his arms. As the music swelled to a grand crescendo, he pulled her closer to him still, his hand placed on the small of her back, spinning her elegantly on the dancefloor and the look of complete and utter happiness on her beautiful face branded itself on his soul, marring it forever, as he promised himself that this, this, is what he will endeavour to make her feel every day.

Just as the final lingering note of the orchestra strung out, he brought them to a halt, their chests pressed closely up against one another, and the silky skirts of her gown wrapping around his legs and hers with the momentum of their dancing. Her face was flushed, and their breathing was coming in deep gasps. But he didn’t let her go. Didn’t remove her hand from his. She remained clutching his chest in her small palm, seemingly as unwilling to let go of him as he was of her. Somewhere in the distance, the clock tower began to strike, signifying it was midnight. The first bell pealing through the night, indicating the impending New Year.

“You know,” she began, her voice light as a summer breeze in his ear, as if what she was about to share was the greatest secret she held, “In the human realm, they say the one you spend the eve of the New Year in the arms of, is the one whom you will love for the following twelve months.”

His hands flexed, needing to feel her warm body beneath his, needing to know she was real. That this moment was real. His gaze brushed over every detail of her face, her sparkling chocolate brown eyes, her soft full lips. Yes. He could love her for a year. For a lifetime, an eternity. Longer. His heart had already decided this long ago. “Then I am exactly where I am meant to be,” he replied. “This year, and all the ones that will come after it.”

The smile that she gave him in return was dazzling, as she reached up on her tiptoes and placed the softest, sweetest, of kisses upon his full lips. The twelfth and final bell rang out through Velaris and faelight exploded in a cacophony of gold and silver all around them, cheers erupting with partygoers celebrating the arrival of the New Year.

He couldn’t help but think that the woman in his arms still brightened this room, his world, far more than the celebratory display of lights around them. He kissed her back and didn’t stop doing so for a long, long while.

A/N: Wishing you all a happy, safe & healthy New Year! 🥂